When he looked up again, he saw that he stood in a great, lightless hall. Wrecked balustrades of stone lined the walls, the remnants of high, proud galleries that once encircled the place. In the center of the hall a drifting spiral of white magic hovered in the air, turning slowly. Araevin gazed at the odd apparition, trying to make out what exactly it was-and his vision leaped again, diving into the white spiral.
He stood in a strange room of gray mist and shining light, gazing at a great old tome of golden letters, lying open on a stand.
“Ithraides’s spellbook,” he gasped.
All at once the vision whirled away from him, and Araevin was left cold and hollow on the windswept terrace above Silverymoon.
He climbed shaking to his feet, only to give up and sink back down to the ground. The spell was neither easy nor forgiving, and he would not be himself for quite some time. But the vision was usually truthful.
A silver door of mist in a black hall, he wondered. Ithraides’s lore has not been lost.
With a sigh, he climbed again to his feet, and started back toward the city and his companions below.
CHAPTER NINE
28 Mirtul, the Year of Lightning Storms
They spent their last night at the Golden Oak much as they had the last time they left Silverymoon, enjoying a good meal, drink, and dancing beneath the lanternlit boughs of the great old tree. Then, in the morning, the three travelers returned to the Vault of Sages to pick up the copies Araevin had commissioned from Brother Calwern before leaving the city again. It was another warm spring morning, and flower beds all over the city were in bloom around them.
They climbed the steps to the Vault’s entrance, and found Brother Calwern waiting for them with a new leather scroll case, secured for travel.
“The Untheric map you requested is ready,” the aged Deneirrath told Araevin. “I wish you luck in your travels, Master Teshurr. Come back when you can and tell us about them.”
“Thank you,” Araevin replied, accepting the map in its leather case. “Until we meet again, Brother Calwern.”
He bowed and turned to go, but then someone called his name from nearby. The voice was human, though raspy and somewhat deep. Araevin turned and found himself looking on a man who sat by one of the desks. The fellow stood slowly, pushing himself to his feet with a jangle of mail beneath his surcoat.
“I am Dawnmaster Donnor Kerth, of the Order of the Aster,” he said. “I have been waiting for you.”
The same order that Grayth served in, Araevin recalled. He inclined his head to the fellow.
“Well met, Dawnmaster,” he replied, studying the Lathanderian. He was young-a grown man, certainly, but no more than his mid-twenties, if Araevin was any judge of it-and he had a hard manner to him. His eyes were bright blue and intense, and his hair was hacked so short that it was little more than dark stubble covering his dusky scalp. He wore the rising sun symbol of Lathander on his breast, and a big-hilted broadsword hung at his hip. “What can I do for you?”
“You were the companion of Mornmaster Grayth Holmfast?” the human asked.
“Yes, I was,” Araevin said. He frowned, taking the young man’s measure. “We traveled together in the Company of the White Star some years ago, and again this very spring.”
“Grayth Holmfast was my mentor in the Order. I understand you were with him when he was killed.” His fierce manner grew even harder as his eyes narrowed, and a scowl crept across his features. “He was like a father to me, Master Teshurr. Tell me what happened to him.”
Araevin searched Donnor Kerth’s eyes. “Grayth was a true friend to me as well, Dawnmaster. I will do as you ask.” He reached out and set a hand on the big human’s shoulder. “But, I have to warn you-it will be hard to hear. He fought valiantly at my side through many perils, but in the end he was murdered in cold blood by the daemonfey.”
“I mean to hear your tale, Araevin Teshurr, whether it is good or ill.”
Araevin glanced at Ilsevele and Maresa, then nodded. “Give me a moment to finish my business here, and we will go somewhere to talk. Dawnmaster, this is my betrothed, Ilsevele Miritar, and our companion Maresa Rost, who has also shared many dangers with us. We all rode with Grayth.”
Ilsevele offered her hand in the human way, and Kerth surprisingly did not seek to crush it in his mailed grasp. He drew off his gauntlet to touch her fingers, and bent down to kiss her hand.
“My lady Miritar,” he murmured. Then he turned to Maresa, who made a show of daintily extending her hand for the same treatment. “Lady Rost.”
“Dawnmaster Kerth,” Maresa intoned gravely. The genasi regarded the serious Lathanderian with a solemn face, but Araevin caught a glimmer of humor in her eyes. Maresa was not used to such displays of courtesy, it seemed.
“Let us go outside,” he suggested.
The human assented with a nod, and Araevin led him outside to the green boulevard that ran past the Vault. Many of Silverymoon’s streets would have passed for parks in other cities. They found a row of cherry trees in full bloom, and sat on a pair of stone benches beneath the soft pink blossoms. Araevin related to Donnor Kerth the story of his return to Faerun and quest for the missing telkiira. From time to time, Ilsevele or Maresa interrupted with details of Grayth’s valor and their adventures together.
Araevin went on to tell of their continued quest in search of the last telkiira, the battle against Grimlight the behir, and the daemonfey treachery that snared them all in Sarya Dlardrageth’s clutches. Then he came to the end of Grayth’s tale in the demon-haunted halls beneath Myth Glaurach.
“The daemonfey demanded that I lead them to the last of the treasures they sought, and so they threatened Grayth’s life if I did not comply.” He paused, struggling with the words, as the grief of the moment welled up again in his chest. “I hesitated, because I did not want to put such a weapon in Sarya’s hands. She ordered Grayth killed, and one of her fey’ri cut his throat. My resistance failed, and she caught me in a spell of dominion, commanding me to do as she asked.”
Kerth’s fierce eyes softened for a moment. “You did what you could, Araevin Teshurr. Your lives were forfeit from the moment such monsters captured you. As far as you knew, they would kill you anyway.”
“I know. But if I had yielded sooner, they might have saved Grayth for later use against me, as they did Ilsevele and Maresa. In which case, I might have been able to rescue him as well.”
“How did you escape the domination spell and free your comrades?”
Araevin frowned, and rubbed unconsciously at the Nightstar embedded beneath his shirt. Some things should not be lightly shared.
“Sarya’s captain commanded me to attempt something that risked grave harm. That gave me the strength to break the spell. After that, I returned to Myth Glaurach, which had been mostly emptied, as the daemonfey were busy with their war against Evereska and the High Forest. I found Ilsevele and Maresa, and teleported away.”
“He also managed to sabotage Sarya’s control of the city’s mythal, and banish a few hundred demons while he was at it,” Maresa added. “Don’t let Araevin convince you that he isn’t at least a little bit heroic.”
The human glanced at Araevin again, and leaned back to digest the tale, hands locked in front of his chest. After a long moment he sighed and looked up.
“Does Grayth’s murderer still live?” he asked.
“No. I killed the one who wielded the knife,” Araevin said.
“But as far as we know, Sarya Dlardrageth still lives,” Ilsevele added. “She is the one who ordered Grayth’s death. We think she is hiding in the ruins of Myth Drannor.”
“Then, if you will permit me, I offer you my service in Grayth Holmfast’s stead.” The Dawnmaster bowed deeply, his arms spread wide. “These daemonfey, whoever they are, have made an enemy of the Order of the Aster, and I intend to see Lord Holmfast’s work through to its end.”
Araevin frowned, not sure what to make of the offer. He exchanged looks with Ilsevele and Maresa. The genasi shrugged, but Ilsevele studied the human closely, her green eyes narrowed in thought.
“Evermeet’s army is marching against the Dlardrageths in Myth Drannor,” Araevin finally said. “However, our
